


Shooting Star

by Acaeria



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Apocalypse, Demon Deals, Gen, Imprisonment, Mental Breakdown, Panic Attacks, Paranoia, Self-Harm, idek what this is tbh, poor communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 14:13:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4832123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acaeria/pseuds/Acaeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dipper has a breakdown and accidentally injures his sister, he's locked away for fear of working with the demon Bill Cipher. Bill decides to take advantage of the situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shooting Star

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing with no idea what would happen, but I'm quite pleased with the result- whatever this is. Inspired by this post: http://goldycks.tumblr.com/post/128722083940/llttledipper-this-post-got-me-thinking-tho

_“He’s scared.”_

_“He’s dangerous.”_

_“He’s not safe.”_

Mabel tried not to listen, but the whispers were so loud that she couldn’t help but to hear. The sweater pulled over her head did little to block out the noise, the whispers, the thoughts hammering at her brain, begging her to open the doors and let them in. Well, she wouldn’t; they hurt too much and she just wanted to, not, think. Just wanted to leave it all behind.

But she couldn’t, and even thick layers of wool and sparkles could not dispel the reality that was around her. Because they’d locked up her brother, trapped him down in the basement, because he was angry and violent and dangerous and he would hurt them all if they let him out. And it hurt, because he was her brother, her twin, and she couldn’t imagine him ever hurting her (even if she had already seen it, already felt it).

She rubbed the scratches on her arm, red welts and split skin, pulled apart by ragged, chewed-up fingernails. They stung beneath her fingertips, but the pain was welcome; grounding, reminding her of what was real and what was the whispers from outside. Around her, she could hear the creaking of the shack as it was battered by the storm outside.

The voices in the kitchen quieted and died away. She heard footsteps and tensed, but nobody approached her; she heard footsteps thunder upstairs and the vending machine open, then click shut moments later. Then, all was silent.

It took her a moment for her to register that it was _too_ quiet; even the howling of the wind and the drumming of the rain outside had faded away to a stop. Confused and curious, she forced her arms into the arms of the sweater and yanked it back over her head, blinking several times as her eyes readjusted to the light.

Everything was grey. The monochrome made the hairs on her skin stand up, sent a shiver down her spine. She knew this place; maybe not as well as her brother knew it, but well enough. The name of it came to her mind, dangerous and foreboding: _the mindscape_.

“Well hey there Shooting Star,” she heard, and Bill Cipher appeared from seemingly nowhere, floating casually before her. “It seems you’re in a bit of a predicament.”

Mabel felt she should run, or back away, but she had nowhere to go. She was sat with her back to the wall, huddled up in the smallest position she could be. “What- What do you want?” she demanded, trying to sound threatening, but even she could tell the attempt was pathetic the moment the words left her mouth; her voice shook pitifully, and she trembled, hugging her knees tighter.

“Oh, no need to look so down,” Bill said, and she was sure that if he’d had a mouth, he’d be grinning. “Why don’t you tell me what’s gotten you all tied up in knots?” She glared at him.

“You know!” she yelled at him, relieved to hear that her voice wasn’t shaking as much now. He raised his arms as if shrugging.

“I want to hear it from your mouth,” he told her infuriatingly. She glared at him again and bit back a retort, instead indulging his request.

“Dipper’s gotten all _weird_ ,” she confessed, her voice quiet now. “He says and does things that make no sense, and he doesn’t talk to me- or anyone, really. And then, today, he- he attacked me, and I-” Now, tears were threatening again, and she forced them back, determined that she wouldn’t cry in front of the demon. “They locked him up! And he was yelling, begging me to believe him, to trust him, but, I, didn’t! He was screaming, ‘Mabel, Mabel, you gotta believe me’ and I didn’t do anything! And I feel awful but I, don’t, trust, him, anymore!” She was screaming now, red-faced and teary eyed. _Great_ , she thought, rubbing her face and wiping the tears away with one too-long sweater sleeve.

“Sounds like you’re stuck in a hard position,” Bill said thoughtfully, his voice full of faux sympathy. Mabel felt angry once more.

“You!” she yelled. “What have you done to my brother?” At this, Bill looked affronted.

“Me? I did nothing! Nothing at all. Your brother drove himself to this.” There was a hint of smugness in his voice, though for the life of her, Mabel couldn’t figure out why.

“I don’t believe you!” she cried. “He’s not- dangerous! He’s my brother! He’d never hurt me, so whoever’s locked up- it’s not him!” Her vision grew blurry and she rubbed furiously at her eyes once more. “It’s not him,” she said again, her voice quiet again, “Right?” The demon closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

“Oh, Shooting Star, for someone so insightful, you’re so blind,” he commented, opening his (glowing, red) eye on the last word. “Why can’t you just admit you don’t know anything about your brother?” And the way he said it, the hidden depths in his tone, made her freeze.

“What do you mean?” she asked warily, blinking up at him. Part of her was screaming to turn away, to yell at him to leave her alone, because he was the bad guy and she couldn’t trust him- but a larger part was telling her that she needed answers, and he had them.

“He’s been hiding things from you,” Bill told her with a sigh. “Him and Sixer both. They’re keeping secrets down in that basement of theirs- a machine that can read thoughts, a room full of demonic eyes, watching this entire family; a rift that, if it fell into the wrong hands, could destroy the world.” Mabel was barely breathing now, eyes wide as she stared at the demon. He was lying, surely- that’s what demons did! ... _Right?_ But some part of her _knew_ he was telling the truth, knew it like she knew her name was Mabel. “Pine Tree wants to destroy this world. Sixer, too. They’ve got crazy ideas in their heads, conspiracies from reading those journals, they think I’m the _bad guy_ \- they’ll do anything to destroy me, even destroy themselves- even destroy everyone around them.”

“You’re lying,” she snapped. “That’s not true!”

“Oh, but I’m afraid it is. You see, the reason I want those journals, that rift- is to keep it away from the two of them. If allowed to keep them, well, they’d surely bring about the end of the world- and that’d be no fun for me. I do really enjoy messing with you humans, you know.”

Mabel’s heart was hammering in her chest. She didn’t want to believe it- the thought made her feel ill- but every instinct in her body was screaming at her that this was the truth. Bill was floating, watching her with mild curiosity in his eyes.

“So, Shooting Star,” he said suddenly, “How about we make a deal? You get me those journals, that rift- and no longer will your family keep secrets from you.” It was… tempting, to say the least. For her brother to talk to her for once, for everyone to stop _lying_ \- surely, things would be better then? And if her brother and Grunkle would truly end the world if they had the journals and the rift, then wouldn’t it be a good thing for Bill to have them?

“I- I don’t know,” she stammered.

“Oh, that’s fine,” Bill said. “You just sit and think about it for a while. If you’re willing to take the deal, I’ll be right here- but don’t take too long about it,” he added warningly. “Well, see ya!”

Mabel yelped as he exploded, her eyes snapping open to the dark hall. The sounds of the storm had died down, and everything was silent. The clock at the end of the hall told her it was just past five in the morning.

She got to her feet and stretched, before looking around. Truthfully, she didn’t know what to think, or what to do. It still felt wrong that her brother could hide so much from her. She rubbed at the cuts on her arms and pondered, before sneaking into the shop and punching in the access code on the vending machine. The elevator took her down to the second floor (well- the minus second floor) where they’d locked her brother. The doors slid open, and only a single, heavy wooden door blocked him from her sights. She pressed her hand against the wood, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Dipper?” she called. “Dipper, are you there?” There was the sound of movement from inside, then Dipper’s voice, on the other side,

“Mabel? Is that you?”

The sound of his voice made her feel relieved and shaky. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but hearing his shaky voice reassured her that he was still her brother. Bill’s warning seemed miles away.

“Yeah,” she called back.

“Oh, thank God,” Dipper said. “I- I can’t stand it in here Mabel, you have to let me out!” Or, maybe not. “I- I feel like I’m being watched, the pictures on the walls, they’re moving, I can hear voices- we’re in danger, Mabel, you’ve gotta let me out, you have to let me help!” She jerked back from the door. “Mabel?”

“I- I-” she stammered.

“...Mabel?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” She hit the button to return to the ground floor. The doors slid shut, and she turned away, fighting back tears as her brother yelled after her.

“Mabel- Mabel no- Come back! I- I won’t hurt you again I swear! I swear I’m not dangerous! Please, you’re in danger, you have to listen to me, Mabel come back!”

Stumbling from the elevator, Mabel rushed forward, staggering through the door and slamming the vending machine closed. She was shaking all over, her breath rattling in her chest. She couldn’t hear her brother screaming anymore; she wondered if he had stopped, or if the layers of metal and wood between them was blocking him out.

She grabbed the wall with one hand and her sweater with the other, keeping herself steady. She closed her eyes, and felt cold as she considered the demon’s deal. _I’m sorry, Dipper, Grunkle Ford_ , she thought, _but I have to do this. For all our sakes_.

She opened her eyes to a grayscale world and a jovial triangle demon floating before her, outstretched hand wreathed with blue fire.

“Deal,” she told him, and reached out to take his hand. His eyes lit up, and he let out an ominous chuckle.

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Shooting Star,” he said, before blinking out of existence.

* * *

 

Dipper was going stir-crazy. After the initial angerhumiliationbetrayalshock, he’d screamed himself hoarse, begging someone, anyone, to let him out- he’d even make a deal with Bill Cipher at that moment, he was so desperate. Then, tired out and feeling sick, he’d sank to the floor, curling up and crying. He felt as if he’d slept at that point, for the next thing he was aware of, he was sore and uncomfortable, curled up on the ground. So he’d gotten up and started to look around the room, Great-Uncle Ford’s private office. It wasn’t any different than it had been the last time he’d seen it; all creepy Cipher memorabilia and smashed computer screens.

That was when he noticed the eyes on the wall watching him, and heard the voices whispering. At first, he’d talked himself into believing it was his imagination, but as the night wore on, he became less and less sure. The voices had turned into one, Bill’s voice, and it was taunting him, telling him all the things he didn’t want to hear- that _everyone was in danger_ and _the world was going to end_ and _his family no longer trusted to him and wouldn’t listen to his warnings_ and _they were all going to die_ and _he couldn’t do a single thing to stop it_.

“Dipper?” called a voice, and his eyes widened, wishing they’d just stop- _taunting_ him, playing with his fears. He wondered what they would say in his sister’s voice, whether it would be something to attack him or something to make him so very afraid. “Dipper, are you there?”

And he spun around to face the door, barely hoping to believe- could that really be his sister? He raced over to the door, pressing his hand against it. “Mabel? Is that you?” he called, desperately, suspiciously. He didn’t think he could take much more of this, couldn’t bear it if this was some sort of trick.

“Yeah,” the voice called back, and he was almost certain this was his sister now. He gave a choked sob, and hoped she couldn’t hear it.

“Oh, thank god,” he said, entire body trembling. “I- I can’t stand it in here Mabel, you have to let me out! I- I feel like I’m being watched, the pictures on the walls, they’re moving, I can hear voices- we’re in danger, Mabel, you’ve gotta let me out, you have to let me help!” He waited for her response, but all he could hear was silence. “Mabel?” he called quietly, voice shaking, hope sinking down into the dark pit of dread in his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he heard her whisper. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” Then there came the sound of the elevator restarting, the doors sliding shut as it made its ascent.

“Mabel- Mabel no- Come back!” he cried desperately, banging on the door with his fists. Why, why was she running away? Did she think- did she think he’d hurt her? He remembered her face full of fear, tears in her eyes, blood running down her arms. Fear overtook him, colder than ice and burning with a desperation hotter than fire. “I- I won’t hurt you again I swear! I swear I’m not dangerous! Please, you’re in danger, you have to listen to me, Mabel come back!” He heard footsteps, and the slamming of the door. He whimpered, thoroughly aware of how pathetic he sounded. “Mabel!” he screamed. “Mabel, please, Mabel, you’ve gotta… you’ve gotta…”

He curled his hand into a fist and leaned his head against the door, breathing shallowly. How long had he been in here? Was it morning yet? He really ought to have asked his sister, but it hadn’t seemed important then… Would they bring him breakfast? Or would they just leave him here, letting him slowly waste away like his sanity?

The fear was building in his chest, heart pounding so hard he was sure it would burst from his chest, beating so hard it _hurt_. He grimaced, grasping it and sinking to the floor, curling into a ball. He squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to ignore the fear, the pain, the overwhelming panic bearing down on him.

The world seemed very far away, and he felt as if he were looking down on himself from a distance. He feared that he’d been pulled into the mindscape once more, and that his body was no longer his, and terror gripped him. He dug his nails into his arms, gasping at the pinpricks of pain they caused, before pressing harder, splitting skin and drawing blood. He focused on the sensation of liquid running down his skin, drawing himself into his body, and slowly, his breathing slowed, and he fell into an uneasy, fitful sleep.

* * *

 

Mabel hovered in the gift shop all morning, chatting with Wendy and Soos and trying to hide her fear and worry for her brother. Eventually, after the Shack had closed, Grunkle Ford surfaced from the basement, storming straight past her, assumingly heading to speak to his brother. Mabel took that moment to head down to the lab, racing down the stairs, knowing that she likely didn’t have very long at all until her Grunkle returned.

The lab was vast, and filled with a large number of nerdy doodads that she had no idea what to do with. “Rift, rift, rift,” she muttered to herself, looking around. “If I were a nerd, where would I keep a rift?” Then, something caught her eye; a triangle motif, an image of Bill carved into the wall. The sight of it filled her with dread; what had the demon said to her again? _A room full of demonic eyes, watching this entire family…_

As she watched, the carved eye winked- or possibly blinked, it was impossible to tell- at her, its pupil flicking to a cabinet across the room before returning back to normal, as if it had never moved at all. Mabel turned and headed over to the cabinet, pulling aside a curtain to reveal a snow globe that contained a weird galaxy-ripple that was probably the rift, and the three journals, piled atop each other.

Mabel grabbed them, stashing the journals in her sweater and gripping the rift in her hand. As she passed the triangle and winked at it and said, “Thanks.”

Just then, she heard the approaching rumble of the elevator, and fear shot through her, adrenaline increasing her speed as she shot into the stairwell and out of sight as the doors opened. She didn’t stay to see what her Grunkle would do, instead racing up the stairs, taking them two at a time and hoping that he couldn’t hear her footsteps, or the pounding of her heart.

She emerged into the gift shop, which was dark now, completely abandoned for the night. She snuck from the shack, out into the cool night air, glancing at the magical barrier that had been broken by last night’s storm and fixed up earlier that day.

She lay the journals out on the ground and placed the rift on top. “Bill!” she called, and the world turned grey as the demon appeared, a wicked look in his single eye.

“Well well well!” the demon cried. “It seems you’ve come through, Shooting Star.” With a click of his fingers, the journals and rift began to float, levitating through the air to hover around him.

“So, our deal was that my family would tell me the things they’re keeping secret, right?” Mabel asked him, folding her arms across her chest. “How’re you going to make that happen?”

“Oh, no, if I remember, our deal was that you got me the journals and the rift, and ‘no longer will your family keep secrets from you’.” Mabel shrugged.

“Same difference,” she said blatantly. The demon laughed.

“Oh, not quite, shooting star,” he said, and the tone of his voice set alarm bells ringing in her head. “You see, your family will no longer keep secrets from you- because they’ll be _dead_!”

“Right- Wait, _what_?” Suddenly, Mabel was blown backwards by a gust of wind, rolling head over heels before coming to a stop, back pressed against the Mystery Shack stairs. Bill was laughing, his eye focused on her, so much bigger now than he had been before.

“Oh, Shooting Star,” he cackled, “You’re so gullible, so naive! You’d do anything to protect your family- even sentence the universe to death!” And Mabel felt cold with fear and dread as she saw him smash open the globe containing the rift, allowing it to grow and grow and grow, turning from purple and inky blue and black to red, red like the fires of hell.

The wind picked up, charged with the sound of Bill’s laughter. The clouds grew heavy and dark, and electricity crackled in the air. The rift grew larger, and larger, and Mabel cowered in fear as it opened up, and spat out dark shapes- terrifying, twisted monsters that flew up into the storm, laughing and screeching and growling, like a hurricane of nightmares.

“Mabel!” Mabel twisted to see her Grunkles stood at the door, fear in their eyes as they stared at the rift, and at the demons spilling through.

“Mabel, what have you done?” Grunkle Ford demanded, terror in his face and anger in his voice. “What have you _done_?”

Tears welled in Mabel’s eyes as she stared at the rage in his. “I’m sorry,” she whispered brokenly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

* * *

 

The room had been quiet for a while. Dipper was sat against the wall, eyes fixed on the ceiling. It seemed to be the only inch of the room that wasn’t covered in some sort of demonic symbol, the only surface that wasn’t watching him. The plate that had borne his dinner was empty beside him, the only thing in the room that had changed from when he’d been thrown in there- how long ago had it been now? A day? A week? Longer? He couldn’t keep track of time in this dark room, with no access to the outside world.

He heard a key turning in the lock. Ford again? That was strange, he could’ve sworn he’d been here not too long ago; but then again, how could he know? Time moved at an odd pace for him now.

“Dipper?” he heard a voice call, and it wasn’t the voice he was expecting. He jerked his head to the side, almost toppling over as he shot to his feet.

“Mabel?” he called, almost believing this was another illusion, another hallucination. But there she was, fear in her eyes and tears on her face- wait, what?

“Dipper, I-” she let out a sob. “I’ve done something awful and I- I don’t- What do I do?”

“What do you mean?” Dipper asked, his voice hoarse and sore. “Mabel, what did you do?”

“I-” her voice shook and her eyes misted with tears. “I gave them to him. The rift. The journals.” She shouldn’t even know about the rift. Fear began to creep up Dipper’s spine.

“Who did you give them to?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Bill,” she said softly, not meeting his eyes. “I gave them to Bill Cipher.”

* * *

 

Mabel stared fearfully at her brother, waiting for his anger. But it never came; he just looked scared, the yellow light of the room casting shadows on his face and making him appear ghostly. _Helpless_. Somehow, his silence was even worse.

“Say something,” she choked. “Please, just say _something_.”

“I-” Dipper swallowed, closed his eyes, and then opened them again, and the fear was gone- or, not quite gone, but masked with steely determination. “It’s gonna be okay,” he told her, and Mabel felt as if she’d just been plunged into icy water.

“What?” she whispered. “How- How can you say that? The- The world is ending, we’re all gonna die, it’s all my fault!” She was yelling by the end, her voice taut and hysterical. Dipper lurched forward, grabbing her arms and shaking her, jerking her back to reality.

“Stop it!” he snapped. “Stop it, calm down, just- let me think, _okay_?”

The two of them fell still and silent, and Mabel found herself looking around the room. The walls were decorated in images of Bill, their eyes all trained to the middle of the room; no matter where you stood, they were always watching you. Her brother’s voice from the morning echoed in her mind-   _I feel like I’m being watched, the pictures on the walls, they’re moving, I can hear voices-_. She felt sick, standing there and shaking.

Dipper took a deep breath, stepped back, shot her a smile.

“I think I know what to do,” he told her. Mabel could barely believe it, didn’t dare to hope.

“What?” she asked, voice shaking. “What do we do?”

“We make a deal,” Dipper told her with a smile that sent shivers down her spine. “We make a deal.”

* * *

 

The two of them raced outside, gripping each other’s hands for dear life. Stan and Ford were already outside, on the porch, staring with terrified eyes as the sky turned red with fire- crying out as the two of them raced past, down to the ground, to where the rift was, and Bill Cipher towered over everything, larger than life and twice as terrifying.

“Bill!” Dipper yelled, trying to fight down the fear threatening to overwhelm him. He wouldn’t give into it again. He gripped Mabel’s hand tighter, too tight, chin raised defiantly to the sky. “Bill, we’d like to make a deal!”

That got his attention. The triangle started, then shrank down, floating to hover before them. “Is that so?” he asked. “Well, make it quick, Pine Tree, I’m a busy guy.”

“Anything,” Dipper said, despite how his heart seized at the word, “For you to stop this.” Bill laughed at that, the laugh too loud, echoing around them.

“ _Anything_?” he chortled. “ _Anything_? You think that’ll stop me? This is everything I’ve been working for for the past millennia! There’s nothing you can give worth this, kid. Give it up.”

It was like a punch in the stomach; the craziest risk they’d taken, the only plan they had, all for nothing. Then he felt Mabel squeeze his hand, and looked at her, saw her smile, her face warm and comforting.

There was a click and he saw something in her hand; the rope shot out of the grappling gun, and the two of them shot up into the air, and Mabel was holding something in her hand- something that looked awfully like a bomb.

“Mabel, where did you get that-” he cried, but his voice was lost in the raging of the wind and the screaming of the demons. The device was flung through the air, and for a single, heart-stopping moment, it seemed it would fall short; then it soared through the portal, causing it to shatter and _implode_ , the forces spilling out of it rushing back in, and knocking the two of them from the air to the ground.

Dipper’s head was pounding, ears ringing as he blinked the light spots from his eyes. He sat up, rubbing his head and hearing Mabel groan; his fragmented vision revealed her lying on the ground not too far away, uninjured but dazed. He shook his head and looked up to see the steam rising from the ground, the nonexistent rift, the shaken but still standing mystery shack, his grunkles passed out on the porch. And there was Bill Cipher, screaming with rage, glowing furiously red.

He caught sight of Dipper as he sat up and turned, eye bloodshot with anger. “You!” he howled. “You’ve- ruined- everything!” An invisible force swept Dipper up, pulled him into the air until he was hovering before the enlarged demon. “You’ve gone too far this time, Pine Tree,” he proclaimed, and Dipper felt as if something were squeezing him tight, constricting his chest and cutting him off from air. He gasped, trying to breathe, struggling in the invisible grasp. “What was that you said? Anything to stop this?” Bill growled. “Well, you can pay for that with your life- and the lives of everyone around you!”

* * *

 

Mabel rubbed her head, slowly sitting up. Everything hurt. Grabbing the bomb from Grunkle Ford’s lab had been a last-minute decision, really, and she didn’t know why she’d made it- but she was thankful that she had. Now, everyone was safe, and she’d fixed her mistake-

“Well, you can pay for that with your life- and the lives of everyone around you!”

She turned her head to see her brother struggling, hovering in the air before an enlarged, enraged Bill Cipher. He was gasping, and seemed to be having trouble breathing- and Mabel felt sick. She’d prevented the apocalypse, yes, but she’d also succeeded in ticking of Bill- and her brother was being forced to bear the brunt of that anger.

Determination filled Mabel as she staggered to her feet. She had no plan, and was as good as helpless, her grappling hook lying broken on the ground nearby- but she had to do something. She couldn’t just sit and watch her brother die.

“Hey!” she yelled, grabbing the attention of the demon. “Hey!”

“What do you want?” he thundered, and Mabel began to reconsider- then she shook her head, determined to stand her ground, no matter what happened.

“Leave him alone!” she cried. Bill stared- and then burst out laughing.

“That’s it? No attack? No deal? Just- ‘leave him alone’? Oh, Shooting Star, you are priceless. Naive and gullible and so, so stupid.” The comment stung, but Mabel didn’t let it show. So, maybe she was stupid, and gullible, and naive- but why should that be a bad thing? She just wanted to see the good in people. Even if that lead to pain and betrayal and everyone thinking that she was nothing but an airhead wrapped in wool and sequins.

“Let. Him. Go,” she demanded darkly. There was something strange happening- as if darkness were curling around her bones and strengthening them, lending her its power. “ _Let him go_!”

With her scream, the world quaked. The ground shook, the sky splintered, and everything trembled, the full force of her fury spilling out, wrapping the world in an embrace of anger and desperation. A look of shock passed over the demon’s face as Dipper fell from the sky, crashing to the ground.

“But how?” he demanded. “That’s impossible, you shouldn’t be able to-”

“ _Leave_ ,” Mabel instructed, only her voice didn’t sound like her own. The ground trembled with the force of it. “ _Leave and never return_.” And like that, the demon Bill Cipher began to crumble, turning to golden dust before her eyes.

“No- NoNoNoNoNoNo!” the demon roared. “This is _impossible_! How are you-” And then he was gone, and the dust from his body was whipped away by the wind.

For a few moments more the ground shook and the sky shuddered and the wind howled before it all fell still. The storm was gone, and the red sky had faded into a pink sunset. The earth was still beneath her feet. Everything was silent.

Mabel let out a shaky breath and sank to the ground. What had just happened? She had no idea, but it scared the hell out of her.

She heard voices and footsteps, and then her brother was in front of her, on his knees with his arms around her. She returned the embrace and let out a sob.

“It’s okay,” Dipper told her, but he sounded confused and shaken and scared, so scared, that it just made her cry harder.

* * *

 

Dipper helped Mabel to her feet and looked around. Somehow, the Mystery Shack had survived the ordeal, and on the porch Great-Uncle Ford and Grunkle Stan were emerging from their unconscious state. As the twins staggered toward the steps, the two of them were getting up, confused and groaning.

“Kids? What happened?” Grunkle Stan asked, concern in his voice.

“The rift,” Ford stammered, “Bill, where are they?”

“They’re gone,” Mabel croaked as Dipper opened his mouth to reply. “They’re gone.” Their great uncles stared at them with shocked expressions, faces like mirror images of the other’s.

“Right,” Great-Uncle Ford said, “We need to talk about this, I need to know what happened-”

“But not right now,” Grunkle Stan interrupted, shooting a glare at his brother. “Right now, I think we could all use some hot chocolate and mindless TV.”

And despite everything, Dipper found himself smiling, and Mabel beside him seemed slightly happier, a light returning to her eyes.

“Yeah,” she said. “That sounds great. Who’s up for a marathon of _Ducktective_?”

“But-” Ford protested. Stan shook his head, silencing his brother.

“Come on, Mabel,” he said, pulling Dipper’s sister from his side and steering her inside the house. “Switch on the TV, I’ll put on popcorn.”

“Alright!” Mabel’s voice floated back outside.

Dipper stood awkwardly beside his great uncle, the two surrounded by a heavy silence. “Are you coming to watch with us, Great-Uncle Ford?” he asked eventually. Ford startled, his eyes meeting Dipper’s for the first time in days.

“You know what?” he said shakily, “I think I will.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty proud of this, considering it's my first attempt at writing for this fandom. I'm sort of half-planning a sequel (in that I think it has potential for one, I just can't think of a plot) so I might continue it sometime, who knows?


End file.
